


Addictive

by daddykeehl



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Drabble, Gen, Lyrium, Lyrium Addiction, Motivational sort of, Talks about addiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-19
Updated: 2017-01-19
Packaged: 2018-09-18 13:19:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9386972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daddykeehl/pseuds/daddykeehl
Summary: He had to live, if not for himself, then for them.





	

Lyrium reminded him of roots from a plant, growing and pushing further through the dirt to keep taking what it wanted, soaking up the nutrients from the ground.

Just like those roots, the Lyrium in Cullen's veins spread throughout his body, draining the life out of him slowly, effectively, spreading ever further in it's almost hungry nature.

The memory loss, the pain, all of it was like waves crashing from the Wounded Coast, hitting him so hard he'd almost blackout, and then stopping for a time, like a reprieve, or the calm just before the storm hit him all over again.

The withdrawals were the worst part, the part that made him wonder if it was even worth it. Without Lyrium, who was he? What did he have? Training? Courage? How far would THAT get him, without the added strength of the poison he saw others so happily take?

Without the poison, he was no one, just a disposable pawn, but with it, he was condemning himself to a life of constant torture until he lost himself entirely, reduced to begging for his next fix like a dirty rat until he died. 

Was there truly any mercy in the Maker's land, then, cornering him in such a way? He'd only ever wanted to help, to see the people smile, instead of cower in fear. He had seen what Lyrium could do, what it could turn him into. But he was nothing like Meredith or Samson. He was Cullen Rutherford, Commander of the Inquisition forces, former Templar who had been through hell and back. 

And so, as he gazed out over the walls protecting so many people from the harsh reality of the world, he saw faces, young and old, women and men, poor and rich, and he knew he had to live. 

For them.

A single box was cast over the looming fortress walls, dropping into the void and making not a sound as it fell.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for a certain friend *COUGH* YOU BETTER READ THIS *COUGH* after a long deciding process on his part. You're welcome ;)


End file.
